At least, I hadn’t, until now.
The scent of vanilla honey blossom caressed my senses as the warm heat of a soft body pressed against mine. Her head lay on my chest, one leg curved over my hips so the weight of it pressed down on me in the most delicious way. Her arm wound around my body and her fingertips were woven into the tight curls of my dark hair.
But the most surprising thing of all was the way I was holding her too, my right arm beneath her, hooked around her body with my hand resting on her hip. And my left hand cupping the back of her head, her blonde hair tangled around my fingers like I’d been holding her that way all night.
I almost didn’t dare to open my eyes as the utter peace of that moment washed over me, afraid of breaking the spell I’d woken in and realising it had really just been an impossible kind of dream.
I cracked my eyes open slowly, frowning as I found us laying on the floor in the dark, only the dim light spilling beneath the door at the far end of the closet giving me anything to see by.
I took a second to process how we’d ended up here. The strange moment we’d shared, locked away in my closet where the world couldn’t see us and I could be honest about some of the secrets I’d been hiding from her. I didn’t know what had caused her tears and I didn’t feel it was my place to ask her about them. I hadn’t earned the right to question her sadness when I’d caused so much of it myself.
I could only imagine how hopeless she’d been feeling to take comfort in my ungodly arms, but I was also strangely honoured by the fact that she’d done just that.
We were destined to be together always now, after the oaths we’d sworn on the sacred stone. But sometimes it felt like more than just an obligation. Like fate had guided us together. Five lost souls in need of each other more than any of us would ever be willing to admit.
I breathed in deeply, inhaling that sinfully sweet smell which clung to her skin, wondering if she tasted as delectable as she smelled.
She murmured something, wriggling even closer to me, her thigh tightening over my hips for a moment and making me groan in the back of my throat. I’d never woken up with a woman like this. Never had the slightest inclination to do so. But now that I was holding onto her, I had the strongest desire to hold on tight. To lose myself in this moment and never again come back to reality.
“Saint?” she murmured, her voice husky from sleep and laced with confusion like she couldn’t figure out how she’d ended up here.
“We slept on the floor,” I replied, because apparently stating the obvious was the only thing my brain could muster.
Her fingers flexed in my hair and she slowly slid her hand down my neck until her palm landed on my chest, right above my heart which was thumping solidly as I watched her.
“Are you surprised to find I have one?” I asked as she lingered there, feeling the beat of my heart beneath her palm.
“A little,” she replied. “Though less so after last night. My letters…”
She pushed herself up, using my chest as leverage and I was surprised as she slid over my lap, straddling me as she looked down into my eyes with a frown.
I rested my hands around her waist, my touch loose and gentle, just wanting to reassure myself that she was actually there. Last night seemed like some strange illusion. But this moment here said it had been real.
“I felt sure I knew the only things that mattered about you, Saint,” she said slowly. “And now I’ve woken up with a new perspective on everything you do and I don’t know how to process it.”
“Perhaps its best you don’t,” I said. “Because I certainly can’t help you to figure my psyche out. I’ve had no luck at doing so myself in eighteen years.”
She bit into her full bottom lip and I frowned at the wild mane of blonde hair that fell around her shoulders. She was still wearing my shirt and I had my pants from yesterday on too. The mere thought of sleeping dressed in old clothes, missing out on my nighttime ritual and curling up on the fucking floor of a closet should have freaked me the fuck out, but, for the moment at least…I just felt eerily calm. And the only thing I could attribute that to was her. Tatum Rivers. Master of my agony.
“You look kinda cute when you’re all sleepy, you know?” she teased, reaching forward to ruffle my short hair.
I caught her wrist to stop her, a grunt of protest passing my lips and she laughed at me.
“I’ve never been called cute a damn day in my life,” I growled.
“Well, I’m willing to bet that there aren’t many people who have seen you all sleepy and well rested. You look like a lion cub who’s been snoozing the day away in the sunshine.”
She smirked at me and I huffed as she caught hold of the hand that had been restraining her and twisted it so that she could look at the watch on my wrist. Knowing I’d slept wearing it made my jaw tick and I suddenly wondered what time it was too. I was willing to bet it was the middle of the night, or my music would have been playing in the
